Already Gone
by swanhooked
Summary: Killian makes the choice to move on or stay with Emma. Spoilers/spec up to 5x15.
1. Part 1

"You have to come home."

She hated the words, she hated having to say them, and she absolutely hated the way her voice trembled on the last word, the conviction in her tone laced with nothing but fear. _How could it be a choice?_ Her heart cried."You– _we_ –have a life in Storybrooke." Suddenly the word future was unspeakable.

"Why bring me back, when I can just move on?"

She wants to run. The muscles in her legs twitch and pull and scream to get her out of there. She wants to look away but she can't. She wants to forget this very moment; the way his eyes hold tears back while his lips speak nothing but honest truth. Even if she had something to say, she wasn't sure she'd be able to utter it.

She glances at Liam standing a step behind him, hating the anger she felt being directed at him. He stares back at her, his love for his brother clear in his eyes but his shoulders were rooted in their unmoving, protective stance.

Killian isn't looking at her when she turns back to him. He looks the same as when he told her he no longer loved her on that day on his ship and her heart begins to crack. He's ashamed, worried at the damage he just caused. But Killian does not speak a word he does not mean. It used to be one of the things she loved most about him.

"Killian," she grabs his attention back to her, his hard eyes lifting from their focus on the ground to look at her. What she sees shocks her; it is her own reflection, the look in his eyes the same one he saw in hers when they first met, the one that connected their very souls. _Lost._ She sees a very different Killian standing before her and suddenly their future is no longer the answer; it is a question. A choice.

She fingers his ring still in her pocket, seeking what she feels to be the last of its strength. "I love you," she tells him and her heart clenches when she hears his small intake of breath, like he couldn't fathom why she would express such a thing after what he just said. Her eyes close of their own volition because she knows the reason he's doing this. He still can't quite believe she loves him enough to risk everything, to trudge down to the gates of Hell to save him. And maybe more aptly, that he would deserve such a thing.

A tear escapes and falls down her cheek when her eyes reopen. "Just…remember that."

And then she's running.

Of all the times he watched Emma Swan run away, none put more pain in his heart than this one. He watched the love of his life race through the trees until the darkness of night swallowed her up, not from herself this time, but from him.

"Brother–"

His eyes didn't leave the spot where her image had disappeared, but he raised his hand towards Liam. "I'd like to be alone, Liam," he tells him before walking in the opposite direction of Emma, towards his place of peace.

It was some hours later when he heard footsteps approach. He whipped his head to see behind him and his shoulders fell, unable to mask the disappointment he felt when it wasn't her.

"Hello, Captain," Regina greeted. Her lips formed a grim line, but not unkind.

He nodded at her, wondering why she of all people had sought him out. She took a seat beside him on the bench, following his gaze locked on the dark waves.

"How is she?" He asks, barely above a whisper.

"Upset," she says honestly. The word hung heavy in the air between them.

He leaned his elbow on his knee, running his hand through his hair. He imagined she told everyone–at least Regina, clearly–and his stomach twisted thinking about how the thought alone was enough to make their journey down here almost null. He didn't know what to say, or if he had anything to say. His time staring at the sea gave no solace this time; his head was just as muddled as when he got there. Regina took his silence as her opportunity to speak.

"From one reformed villain to another, I understand why you are considering this."

His head lifted from his hand to look at her in question. "You do?"

She looked down, twisting her fingers together in her lap. She nodded before she spoke, looking back up at him. "Aside from being with your brother, part of you thinks you don't deserve it."

He swallows tightly, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably at her directness. "I didn't ask any of you to come down here, to risk your lives for me," he utters, almost angrily.

"You didn't have to," is all she says. He had no response to that.

"Killian," she continued, her use of his given name still strange to hear. "Everyone deserves people who will fight for them. Except perhaps Gold." He scoffs bitterly at the understatement. She catches his gaze before saying, "Nothing you've done, nor does your past, change us being those people for you."

He's staring at her in disbelief, his lips becoming chapped in the frigid air as they remain parted for a good minute. His jaw clenches and he voices the question that had been rummaging through his mind since he learned of it. "Would splitting her heart have worked?"

If his change in topic surprised her, she didn't show it. "I believe it would have," she answers. Her head tilts, deducing his reason for questioning it. "Emma isn't the same woman she was when my mother tried to take her heart, and that's because of you."

He heard her meaning without her having to say it. She believed their love was True, something he'd thought from the beginning if he allowed himself to. He smiles sadly, almost dismissively. After all, he felt like the changed one. He dug the tip of his boot into the ground as he thought. He had to acknowledge the difference he'd seen in his Swan; a woman so guarded and lost more than he was, having been wounded by life and love. His smile turned heartfelt, his still heart surging with pride as he thought of every touch, every kiss, that led to him feeling the shift, the point in her life when she finally opened her heart to him.

"You've had a long life, Captain." He turns in surprise to feel her hand on his shoulder. "You deserve peace, whichever way you feel is right, so whatever your decision is–don't do it for Emma, do it for you. That's what she would want."

Having (literally) his life turn into a question, a decision, a choice, suddenly made his stomach churn. He couldn't fathom how or when his future had become such a mystery.

He felt her hand leave his body before she stood up, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat.

"Thank you," he tells her sincerely. Though he had no clearer idea of what to do, she reminded him of what hung in the balance.

She nodded. "Go to her. Don't spend your night alone, especially if it's your last.

It was the first time it was mentioned as an absolute and he felt the lump rise higher in his throat. "I don't think she wants to see me," he mumbles dejectedly.

She ignores him, stopping to turn back around only to throw back, "She's at the house. Door's unlocked."

He hesitated in the entryway of the house, his eyes scanning through the dark at the depiction of Emma's unlived childhood, the toys hauntedly highlighted by the light of the moon.

Was their future to remain down here as well, should he choose to leave?

The whole walk here he thought about the concept of a goodbye and had nearly collapsed on the street at the thought of uttering that heartbreaking word to her. _How could he say goodbye to her?_

He pushed his thoughts aside and climbed the stairs, feeling the tug of her, their love, pull him to the right door. It wasn't closed all the way, the sliver of black beckoning him to push it open, but just outside of it, he stopped and pressed his ear to the crack, anticipating the sound his heart broke for. When no cries or sobs could be heard, he sighed slightly, hoping she had finally found rest.

He pushes the door open more and he immediately spots her form curled under the covers, her back towards him. Automatically he relaxes, if only just because she was safe.

Unharmed, though; that was a different story.

He thought about sliding into bed with her but changed his mind and softly padded over to her side, aching to see her face.

When he got to her, his knees found the floor as he took in her appearance. Her nose was red, her swollen and puffy eyes matching its color, and her cheeks were still wet, tracks of tears staining the skin. He immediately brought his hand up to move a strand of hair away from her face, holding back a sob he felt clogged in his throat.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to her sleeping form. He felt his tears finally escape and he curled his arm inward on top of the bed and shoved his face into it to muffle his cries.

A warm hand found his a moment later. His head popped up to find hers watching him. She was sitting up on her elbow, her hand now clutching his so tightly it almost hurt. Her cheeks reddened as fresh tears began to fall. Neither said anything until he took a broken breath and his head fell under the force of the sobs beginning to release. Distantly he heard rustling and then there was a thunk as her knees hit the wood beneath them and her arms wrapped around him. He fell into her embrace with no hesitation, his nose smashing into the crook of her neck when she pressed a hand to the back of his head.

"Please don't cry," she blubbered into his temple, kissing his hair as she did so. Her plea only allowed the tears to flow more freely, his arms holding her impossibly closer when her own body started to shake.

"Emma, tell me what to do. Please," he begged, his breaths in short pants now.

"I can't," she whispered, the words the most defeating sound he had ever heard.

Silence fell upon them, their only movement being to shift off their knees and lean against the side of the bed, shoulders and knees touching. He didn't know how long they sat there; staring at nothing, feeling everything.

After he couldn't take it any longer, he bumped his knee playfully against hers, earning a small smile from her. Whatever spell was broken as she wordlessly, leaned her head on his shoulder.

"You're a brave woman, Emma," he says softly after another minute passed. He can tell the statement surprises her when her eyes remain locked on a speck in the air before jumping to her hands clasped in her lap.

"I don't feel like it right now," she admits.

He unclenches her right hand with his own and holds it between them, brushing his thumb over her soft skin. "I'm so sorry if I made you feel like I'm not grateful to you–to everyone. I have no words for–"

"Killian, I need to say something," she interrupted. She avoided his gaze, which told him she was nervous about whatever she was about to reveal. He squeezed her hand in encouragement. "I'm sorry for taking away your choice in Camelot, for turning you into…"

"Emma–"

"Let me finish," she said, giving him a sad smile, finally looking at him. "I don't regret it, but I am sorry for what it created and how it led to you being here, if that makes any sense. It was selfish." She says it calmly, but her eyes tell him she had been carrying this weight ever since. His heart ached for not having not been there to sooth her.

He removed his hand from hers to lift her chin with his finger. "Emma, I could never blame you for not wanting to lose me." He caressed her face with his knuckles, watching her eyes flick back and forth at him. When the weight of his words finally hit him, he dropped his hand and turned away from her.

"Hey," she called gently. She pulled his face back to hers so that their foreheads touched, her fingers scratching at the scruff on his jaw. They gazed at each other, lost in their own worlds until she speaks again. "I suspect you think I came to get you because I didn't want to lose another person I love, and there's truth in that, but I need you to know, need you to understand, that I came here for _you_." Her eyes found his then and he felt the prick of tears at the corners when he saw her sincerity, her honesty, and above all, her love. His breath swept out of him as her next words flew out in one big plunge. "No one understands me the way that you do. I don't think anybody else _could_. We were both just…lost kids who wanted a home, a family, someone to love us–and I'll always have my family, and Henry, and that is enough to a point, but I don't want that point to be final. I want you. I want us. I want the future both of us never thought we'd have, and I want it with you." She stops, taking a breath as she cups both of his cheeks with her hands. "There is no one else."

There's a beat and then he's kissing her, showing her what words will forever fail to express. His hand cups her neck and tilts her head back as he deepens it, his tongue colliding with hers in a dance only they know. She moans and it sends shivers down his spine, reminding him of times shared, the quiet moments that will reside forever in his heart, but overwhelmingly it reminds him of the times lost, and the times they may be about to lose.

She pulls back first, resting her hands on his shoulders as they both try to catch their breath. Minutes pass with only the sound of their soft pants surrounding them. His brow furrows when he catches her expression change and before he knows it, her eyes close and she's reaching beneath the soft T-shirt she's wearing to pull out his ring, still hanging on the chain, still around her neck. When her eyes open they're glistening with impending tears and the crack in her voice nearly kills him a second time over.

"I just don't want you to think that you don't deserve it; a future, a life, _me_." Her breath catches and the tears begin to slide down her cheeks. She's holding the ring and its chain in her palm and his gaze shifts frantically between it and her. "I want to thank you for loving me so truly and completely and I am so sorry for how long it took me to catch up but know that I love you just as much." She has to stop to gain back a breath, sniffling harshly before locking her eyes with his. "Your happiness means everything to me, so if moving on is what you want…," she tries desperately to get through the thought but he sees it–the hurt, the fear, the pain, and he's crying with her. He can't move, he can't speak. She stutters through her next breath. "Then I will let you go." She's shaking her head as she whispers, "I don't want you to stay for me, Killian."

His mouth gapes, his jaw stuck in the position as she brings his hand up to her other one holding the ring. He's already shaking his head and pushing her hand away but she remains stern and grips his wrist and dumps the metal into his palm, forcing his fingers over it.

"No," he finally gasps, feeling his hot tears hit his chest. "Don't do this." His voice is lower than a whisper.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, please," she pleas. "You need to go. Otherwise I can't, I won't be able to–"

"Emma, don't shut me out, not now, not like this!" He can't keep the hurt from filling his tone, lacing it with anger and devastation.

"I'm not. I'm letting you go," she cries, and when he suddenly finds himself on the front porch, the soft smoke already fading, he falls to his knees, clutching the ring to his shattered heart as the sobs rack his body until his voice is lost.


	2. Part 2

_My beautiful Swan,_

 _I simply cannot describe the depth of how sorry I am._

 _There are no words adequate enough for me to possibly convey how much you mean to me, how burdensome and utterly terrifying this was. The words that I can speak, well to be quite blunt they would have made me feel like an outright git for saying them on such a night, in light of everything._

 _Your words last night gave beats to my still heart, just as you had when we first met. No matter the time it took for you, Swan, nothing has been more of an honor than earning your heart. I told you I would win it someday and am truly blessed for such a dream to have come true._

 _Forgive me if I still can't quite believe I could ever deserve a woman as fierce and brilliant as you, but if I am to trust someone's judgment, it would be you. Thank you for believing in me, reminding me to want better for myself as well as others. You stand behind every heroic act I was able to serve._

 _You are by far the bravest woman I have ever known–never more so than when you allowed me to hold you when you felt anything but._

 _I'll understand if you wish to not be there and I do not ask it of you. All I ask is that you remember that there is no one in any world, in any realm, whom I love more than you._

 _I can't wait to see you again - but take your time, my love._

 _Eternally yours,_

 _Killian_

She read the letter over and over again, tracing his elegant script with her fingers and hastily swiping away every tear that dare stain the words.

She wanted to say she was okay, but she had no one to fool, sitting at the kitchen table inside the empty house that never had the chance to hold its promise. She knew the real version in Storybrooke would be just as tainted as this one, no longer representing what she could have, but instead a reminder of what she had lost.

Her thumb brushed over his use of the word heroic. She of all people knew how demanding the job of a hero was so his decision did make some sense to her. He was tired; tired of sacrificing everything he'd fought to keep, very rarely enjoying a moment's peace afterward. His most recent one, and perhaps the most the heroic of all, had led to his death, to here, now. She wanted to blame Hades, she wanted to blame Liam–but they were not the reason Killian felt as he did. The look in his eyes last night hadn't been sad, angry, or fearful; it had been the gaze of a boy who wanted the life with his family he had lost, where monsters didn't threaten those he loved and his heart felt no pain.

Her heart still felt his pull, their tether, so she knew he hadn't left yet. She thought about venturing out to the graveyard, to watch his headstone tip over as he finally found the peace he sought. She thought about watching it happen, standing there helpless behind the start of the bridge, sure to be holding herself from running until she couldn't anymore. No option would be the right one, the painless one. Such a thing didn't exist.

The part of her soul that tugged her back to that lost little girl desperately pushed on her shoulders to keep her rooted in the chair, telling her not to move, not to face, not to acknowledge the loss she was about to once again endure.

Over time and without her consciously realizing it, that part of her had shrunk, through the love of her family, her son, her friends, but above all, her Killian. He had erased the jagged marks made on her heart, rewriting them until they bore no significance, so while this loss would be the biggest of them all, she owed it to him to at least not leave it the way that they did.

She would never forgive herself if the last image she had of him was when she had looked out the window down the hall that faced the street and found him curled up in a chair on the porch, not leaving until the sun rose.

One last time, she ran to him.

He could see the Jolly Roger rocking on the open, crystal blue waves, its sails beckoning as they billowed with the call of the wind. The smell of the salty sea and crisp air filled the cavern and Killian allowed his eyes to close and his lungs to breathe deeply.

"It's been a long time, brother, but we shall finally return home," he heard Liam sigh.

Home, he repeated silently. The Jolly had been his home for centuries, his life spent traveling the realms and answering to no one but himself until the day he set foot in Storybrooke and saw what life really could be, what a home could be; a place, a family, a person–wherever one felt his heart resided.

An angelic voice broke through _. Home is the place, when you leave you just miss it._

He turned around, his last shredded piece of hope destroyed when his eyes found no blonde hair, no red jacket at the entrance of the cave. He glanced at the people who'd come to become his friends, his family–their sacrifices and faith in him entirely misplaced, especially as they stood in support to bid him farewell. His eyes were stuck on Henry, who was palming the chained ring Killian had bestowed upon him just before he'd walked up the bridge.

" _Do me one favor, son, and give this to your mother when she's ready. Take care of her for me."_

Henry nodded at him again now, clenching the ring in confirmation of his promise.

"Killian, there isn't much time, we must go," Liam spoke behind him.

Another glance toward the entrance, hoping, praying, wishing, begging his heart to summon her to him, to see her one last time, even if it broke him all over again.

A hand on his shoulder reminded him to keep walking. He watched every one of them nod and wave, none of their smiles the one he ached to see. He walked backward until he couldn't anymore.

The brightening light blinded him when he faced it head on, bathing them both in warmth and peace as they walked toward it.

 _Turn around._

His footsteps stopped, his back becoming rigid as he felt the call.

 _Just one more time._

He felt the prick of tears in his eyes because he knew. He could feel it. Feel _her_. Still in disbelief, still in doubt, his movement was slow. He looked over his shoulders and a breath he hadn't known he was holding left him when he saw her. Her hands were on her knees, her shoulders shaking from being out of breath but she was looking at him and suddenly the light behind him no longer called to him. The warmth evaporated, the image of his former life slowly fading away as he turned back to his brother.

"You're not coming with me, are you?"

He shook his head, his eyes burning from the tears he held back. "I can't–my future…it's with her."

"If that is what you wish, little brother, then I shall not stand in your way," Liam replied, placing his hands on Killian's arms.

" _Younger_ brother," he corrected though no annoyance filled his tone. He rushed forward and embraced the man who'd taught him everything he knew, his tears falling onto the other man's coat. His brother, his best friend. "I love you, Liam. I'll see you again someday."

"Not too soon, I hope. Take care of yourself, Killian," were Liam's last words as the light engulfed him, the sound of crashing waves the last remnant before silence once again filled the cavern.

Killian took a deep breath, not bothering to wipe the wetness from his cheeks as he turned and strode back across the bridge, sheepishly avoiding everyone's gazes except for one.

She was standing upright, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape, and he smiled when he saw her take a hesitant step forward. He picked up his pace and that was all it took to send her running straight into his arms.

"Killian," she cried. "Killian you didn't–why didn't you go?" Her voice was so small, so unlike Emma, all he could do was hold her tighter. He could see the little girl in her glistening eyes, the one that had been left far too many times to believe she wasn't now, and he vowed to never put doubt in her heart again.

His left arm hugged her shoulders, keeping her chest against his, as his fingers curled a strand of hair behind her ear. "Turns out I have a bit of unfinished business here."

His favorite grin crossed her lips then, the one that squeezed her lips together and crinkled her eyes. "What is it?" The question echoed, bringing forth the memory of when she'd asked what his happy ending was, only this time, her voice didn't carry the qualm it once did.

He smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "You," he whispered against her skin.

When he pulled back he saw two fresh tears fall from each of her jade-colored eyes, and it was one of those weak moments when he wished for two hands, two thumbs, to brush the drops away. He settled for his one, whisking it away while his lips kissed the other.

They gazed at each other for a long moment, not saying anything, just feeling each other. She dropped her head to his chest as they swayed in place. "I knew I would stay if you came," he admitted softly.

She pulls back and looks at him. He can't quite read her expression. "But–" she stuttered. "What if I didn't?"

"I knew you would," he says, no doubt in his voice.

"How? I mean, after last night…"

He put a finger to her lips, then moved his hand back to her cheek, his heart sighing when she turns to kiss his palm. He looks at her and sees their future; seeing her smile first thing when he wakes up, the smell of hot cocoa filling the house as they day by day make it theirs, and he thinks that maybe it was never about being deserving of such love, but about taking a hold of it, cherishing it, and never letting it go.

He feels one last tear slide down his skin as he twists his fingers in her hair, gathering the soft curls in his palm as his thumb brushes the small dimple in her jaw. "When you love someone, you know."


End file.
